


A Story of Shadows

by rebaobsessions



Series: Crossover Attempts [4]
Category: Angel: the Series, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, I can't deal, On Hiatus, Please Don't Kill Me, my plan kept growing like a hydra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5405366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebaobsessions/pseuds/rebaobsessions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico flees the Camp Half-blood infirmary and into a shadow. He's aiming for San Francisco (specifically his sister in Camp Jupiter), but ends up in Los Angeles. In a warehouse. Filled with vampires. Like, honest to goodness VAMPIRES-- not empousai. And who in Hades is this "Angel" guy?<br/>Nico stumbles into a world radically different, but just as dangerous as his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vampires?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. This story is set after The Blood of Olympus and sometime after Season 3 Fredless in a universe where Darla never came back. Angel and the gang won't appear much in this chapter, but I've started the next one already. Let me know if you like it (and please be aware that this was supposed to be a one-shot and I only plan to write maybe 3 or 4 chapters)
> 
> For those of you who have read my other stories, I'm sorry I've not updated Piper and Leo Meet Piper and Leo--the inspiration isn't coming. Instead I've been working on five one-shots (including this) simultaneously. Also, if you are one of the individuals asking for more on The Magic of the Unexpected (on my FanFiction account), I am trying to see if I can do anything else with it. However, I only planned for it to be a one-shot, so no guarantees.
> 
> That being said, please enjoy my first attempt at writing Nico di Angelo, son of Hades.

Nico was sick and tired of Camp Half-Blood.

That's not to stay he hadn't come to love the insufferable place since the war against Gaea. There were many people Nico had come to care deeply about at the Camp, but the socializing—it was exhausting. Nico was tired of capture the flag, and campfires. He was done with archery and lava-wall climbing. And he was at his wits end when it came to a certain son of Apollo and his stupid "Doctor's orders."

So, Nico decided to take a field trip. Who cared what Solace said? A little shadow travel hop to Camp Jupiter to visit Hazel couldn't hurt.

_Alright, it's settled._  Nico thought as he double checked his sword and small supply pack.  _Camp Jupiter, San Francisco, California._ Grabbing a few of the abundant shadows in the Hades Cabin, Nico launched into the darkness and focused on his destination.

When the shadows cleared, Nico was certain of three things: (1)This was not Camp Jupiter. (2)He was surrounded. And (3)—he was the biggest idiot in the history of all demigods. Will Solace was right. Nico was not ready for shadow traveling. He would bet all his  _drachmas_ —scratch that— _everything he owns_ , that if he tried to shadow travel again he would never reappear.

Nico examined his surroundings. It was an old, dingy warehouse, though it was clearly not used for storage. The place was extremely dark; Nico was only able to see anything because he was a son of Hades. And what he saw wasn't too discouraging at face value. The warehouse was scattered with ratty blankets, stained mattresses, and dissected pillows. At first glance, the collection of makeshift beds suggested the place was a refugee hideout. The truth was much darker. Those stains, on the beds, were definitely not coffee. Behind him, Nico could hear the faint clinking of chains and a continuous soundtrack of muffled screams and pleas. But that wasn't the worst of it. Over top of everything was the overpowering stench of blood and death. Nico could practically hear the cries of all those who lost their lives in this building.

The son of Hades absorbed all these details in an instant; he had bigger things to worry about. Dozens of figures had relinquished their spots in the darkness to surround the intruder. They looked human, all different shapes and sizes, but Nico knew better. They all felt  _dead_ , but in an unfamiliar way that made Nico's stomach churn. Not to mention the inhuman growls they were producing. He knew instantly he would be unable to control these strange creatures, not through Underworld magic  _or_  force.

The most confident looking creature stepped forward. He was nearly two feet taller than Nico, and proudly displayed a ridged forehead and two vicious fangs. "How did you get in here,  _human_?" he growled.

Murmurs of dissention echoed from the crowd. Someone in the back called, "Why are we asking him questions? He's clearly one of Angel's. Let's just eat him already!"

Nico frowned, "Who's Angel?" He surprised himself with how calm he was. Then again—he'd been to Tartarus and back. This was nothing compared to the pit.

"Don't play stupid with us," a figure to the right of the first stepped forward. "He is not only a sorry excuse for a vampire, but your leader too."

The crowed hissed. Nico didn't pick up much, but he was pretty sure some of them muttered about "hanging out with humans", "falling in love with a slayer", and "drinking from bags".

The first creature, who was clearly the leader, conceded, snarling loudly, "Rip him to shreds!"

A creature off to the side rushed at Nico, but the son of Hades didn't even have to think. He whirled around, stygian iron sword already in his hand, and cut a huge gash across his attacker's chest. To Nico's immense surprise, sticky red goo erupted from the wound. His first thought was,  _Blood? Not dust?_  His second thought was,  _Gaaa!_  as another sprung at him.

After impaling his second attacker, Nico started to worry he was attacking mortals. After all, every monster Nico knew of bled sand—except for the more godly ones, like giants, or the gods and titans themselves. They bled golden  _ichor_. Additionally, Nico's choice of weapon could be quite dangerous; unlike celestial bronze or imperial gold, stygian iron can harm immortals and mortals alike. His concern was erased, however, when his newly impaled friend got over his pain and lunged for Nico, sword still buried hilt-deep in his gut. No mortal could survive that.

Dodging an attack from behind, Nico pulled out his sword and kicked the injured creature away from him. For a moment, the demigod was able to absorb the blood hungry looks that surrounded him. He was faintly aware of the leader yelling something.  _How, in the name of Hades, am I supposed to kill these things?_

He didn't get to wonder for long and three surged forward as one. Acting on reflex, Nico swung his sword at their necks. For a fraction of a second, Nico saw their heads leave their bodies. Next thing he knew, there were three piles of dust at his feet.

_Ok. Decapitation, I can do that._  Unfortunately, his success enraged the remaining creatures, and Nico was still outnumbered 20+ to 1. After a few seconds of scrambling to stay alive, he fell into a rhythm: dodge, duck, parry, swing, decapitate, repeat. All the while, the leader was yelling at the top of his lungs. Nico caught "just a boy", and "incompetent" mixed in with the numerous swear words.

Nico was vaguely surprised he wasn't dead yet.

As though he jinxed it, a creature managed to jump him from behind. Nico staggered. Another tackled them from the side, and they tumbled to the ground. Nico heard his sword skitter across the floor. Someone kicked him in the face, and someone else knelt on his back. The man who tackled him from behind yelled something about getting the first taste, but that provoked a plague of upset growls. Nico's vision started to go black from exertion—shadow traveling, and now this—but suddenly the arguing stopped. Now defenseless, Nico was hauled to his feet by four or five individuals, ears ringing.

The leader stalked towards him, "You really do look like a tasty morsel. The fighters are always the sweetest." He turned to the man who overpowered Nico, "You get the first bite, but I will not hesitate to dust you if you take more than your share," his eyes met Nico's, "I plan to enjoy this one for a long time."

A hand wrapped around Nico's neck. The demigod struggled, dislodging two of his captors and smashing the foot of the creature behind him before he was subdued again. Nico was sorely tempted to summon an army of skeletons, but he figured he better not risk fading from existence. And, you know, there was the whole breathing thing too. He'd really rather be able to breathe.

The grip loosened, and Nico gasped for breath as his head was wrenched toward his shoulder. He could feel his attacker's breath on his neck, and a disturbing thought occurred to him.  _Vampire. That "Angel" guy was called "a sorry excuse for a vampire_ " _. Why would they care unless…. They're vampires. Honest to goodness_ vampires _—not empousai. How's that possible?_

It wasn't as painful as Nico expected. It was nothing compared to drinking from the fiery waters of the Phlegethon, or even being turned into a corn stalk. The bite was a little warm, and stung. Sure, Nico could feel the blood abandoning him, and the light headedness that always accompanies blood loss, but he was almost disappointed. You know, what with the pop culture buzz around vampires.

He probably would have stood there like an idiot for longer than he would've liked to admit, but several things happened at once. There was a large clank from behind him—where he'd heard the people chained in the darkness. A moment later there was a cry of outrage and the sounds of a scuffle off to the side. And then the other side. And behind him. Nico kicked himself. There were people in that darkness behind him—people in chains who needed help, and here he was, playing dinner for some vampire while someone  _else_  seemed to be fighting against the horde of blood suckers.

The demigod twisted slightly and prepared to pull away. Before he could, the vampire who had bit him stumbled away with a gurgled cry. Nico turned and caught the scene out of the corner of his eye. The man was writhing in pain, gasping, and clawing at his throat. Nico's blood was smeared across his face…and the vampire seemed to be smoking. In moments, he was nothing more than a pile of powder.

The son of Hades stood as confused as the rest of the vampires for a few moments, attempting to understand  _what_  was happening, before coming back to his senses. The fight around him was still raging, and he could sense the dumbfounded vampires around him weren't going to remain as such for long. Nico wrenched himself free of the grasp of his two captors, who still held him in a half-hearted hold, and lunged for his sword. He tucked into a roll, coming up smoothly and cutting off the head of the nearest vampire.

That was when all hell broke loose. And Nico knows what he's talking about when it comes to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it worth continuing?


	2. There may be a concussion involved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico meets a few friendly souls who kept him from dying, including one who's just as dead as the creatures he was beheading. The son of Hades quickly discovers how idiotic he may have been when he starts to disappear. There may or may not be a concussion involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I've been writing this since before I posted the last chapter, but the characterization kept feeling wrong. And then the scene kept dragging on and on and on.... Hope it's not too tedious. Sorry it took so long. Life has been crazy and I kept spending my free time /reading/ fanfiction, not writing it. Oops.

The chaos was blinding: the flashes of steel and cries of pain, the charging and ducking and blocking and attacking, the explosions of dust, the desperate cry of orders… It blurred together as Nico let go. He forgot about the shadow travel, forgot about the blood loss. All he focused on was the dance. The dance of block, turn, behead, repeat. The demigod lost track of time and how many creatures he killed. He was oblivious to his injuries, to the blood leaking from the bite on his neck and the trail left by a cut on his head. He didn’t notice the vampire dust sticking to his wounds, turning them a granulated orange color, and to his clothes, turning the black to a dusty off-gray. And most importantly, he didn’t notice the fighters that danced around him, locked in a similar ballet. He didn’t notice the crosses, or the wooden stakes. He didn’t see the look the leader gave the pale bulky man who dressed as darkly as Nico.

The son of Hades didn’t notice anything until he beheaded a vampire, turned, and found no one springing at him, forehead disfigured and teeth bared. Instead, he found a woman with wide eyes, a cross held at arm’s length in his direction, and a pointy stick held by her ear. Nico blinked at her in surprise, sword still held at the ready.

“Are you going to chop my head off too?” she asked with considerable sass.

Nico opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out so he just shut it again. However, the demigod did manage to lower his sword. As he did so, a wave of exhaustion rushed over him and reminded him of the extreme act of idiocy he had performed to get here. Swallowing back a wave of nausea, he glanced down at his sword, which had begun to shake an impressive amount. _Will is going to_ kill _me._

“All clear!” a voice called, “Lorne’s hustling the hostages out!”

“Clear here too!” the woman called back, casually flipping the cross in her hand. Nico hadn’t noticed her lower the strange armaments. She turned off to the side, “Angel?! Gunn?!”

“We’re good!” came the reply, “Angel’s running down some stragglers!”

A moment later, two figures emerged from the darkness in the direction of the first call. One was a fairly muscular man who sported a strange combination with a wickedly sharp stake, a sheathed crossbow, and librarian-like glasses. His companion was a petite girl with glasses of her own. She carried the same weapons the first girl had. Despite his own condition, Nico could clearly tell she was shaken.

“You alright Fred?” the woman asked.

The girl smiled, though it looked a little pained, “Yes.” She glanced at the man next to her, “Wesley did most of the fighting, though.”

Wesley shrugged, his attention mostly focused on Nico at this point. “Fighting isn’t everything.”

“Damn right it’s not!” the woman exclaimed, “We never would have found this place without you, Fred.”

“Thanks Cordelia,” the girl gave the woman a shy smile before looking past her at Nico.

Nico couldn’t blame them for staring. As he had watched the conversation unfold, he had gone from weakly holding his sword in front of him, to letting it hang by his side, to leaning on it with most of his weight. Where he would usually glare at them until they looked away, say something insensitive, or just hop into a shadow, he was clinging to his sword for dear life, and had to look like primordial monster slime from Tartarus itself. All three of them were now eyeing him with concern, and so the demigod straightened as best he could, abhorring the thought of appearing weak—as usual.

Before they could start pestering him about his wellbeing and he could begin his insistence of being fine, two more figures joined them. The taller one, who was African American, sported – in addition to his stake and other weapons – an impressive bloody cut on his nearly bald head. The other was pale and dark, the only things truly visible in the darkness being his face, hands, and stake. They were both covered in vampire dust.

“Charles!” Fred cried in surprise starting forward.

The man with the bloody wound held up a hand to stop her, “I’m fine Fred. Looks worse than it actually is; head wound and all that.”

“Gunn is tougher than he appears,” Wesley said with a mischievous smirk as he placed a hand on Fred’s shoulder.

Charles (Gunn?), however, scowled, “Hey!”

Oblivious of the conversation, the other newcomer was wholly focused on the son of Hades. After several uncomfortable moments of staring, he gave a forced half smile, “That was quite impressive, kid.” Even in his current state, Nico bristled at the term. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“And more importantly,” Cordelia jumped in, “ _Why_ are you fighting? You’re just a kid!”

Nico attempted to give her his best ‘I’m the Ghost King; don’t mess with me’ glare, but winced as he reopened the cut on his head. He reached up to touch the wound, but instead found himself staring at the motley group through air where his hand should be.

Nico was faintly aware of several gasps and Cordelia’s “Well _that’s_ not normal,” but all Nico could bring himself to think about was Will’s scowling face when he had given Nico his lecture on not evaporating for the umpteenth time. Right before Nico had ignored him; right before Nico came _here_ ; right before Nico nearly got himself killed. _I never used to care about my safety—why do I care now?_

Pretend as he might, Nico couldn’t deny that it was because of Will. After all: Will wouldn’t blame Nico. Hell, he wouldn’t blame the vampires. Will would blame himself, and for some reason, that was not acceptable to the son of Hades.

“Hey, kid, you all right?”

Shaking himself out of his reverie, the demigod fixed a piercing glare at the group in general, since he had no idea who had spoken. He was still staring through the space where his hand should be. They had shifted considerably from when Nico had raised his hand, so he was left to wonder how long he had been standing there like an idiot. The guy with the glasses—Wesley—was digging around in a bag, Fred anxiously peering over his shoulder. Gunn (complete with a bloody rag held to his head), Cordelia, and the other guy were all eyeing Nico with concern. The only individual who had _not_ moved was the as-yet-unnamed trench-coat guy. Nico peered closer at him and came away with the distinct feeling that he was _not_ alive.

“You’re dead,” Nico figured it was a testament to how screwed over he was that he couldn’t keep his observation to himself.

Most of the others started and looked at Nico with a considerable increase in wariness, but the man in question simply gave a wry grin, “And you’re not human.”

Nico bristled without thinking about it, “Yes I am! Well, I’m… mostly human.”

Gunn narrowed his eyes, “You’re part demon?”

Nico gave the man a look and decided that his question didn’t deign a response. It apparently unnerved him, because his gaze became decidedly fixed on Nico’s handless arm. The dead guy was giving the young demigod that piercing sort of look that Nico had only seen in maybe three individuals, all of whom were immortal, and one of whom was the Camp mentor Chiron.

Cordelia, evidently not the most patient individual, took a step forward, hands on hips, “Well? If you aren’t going to give a straight answer on who you are, are you gonna tell us why your hand is invisible?”

Nico arched an eyebrow, and lowered his hand so he could see his sword through it, “It’s not invisible it’s gone.” Before they could question him, he demonstrated his point by trying to grab his sword; his hand passed straight through it.

“You seem awfully calm about that,” Wesley appeared behind Gunn with bandages of some sort.

Nico shrugged, surprising _himself_ with his tranquility, “It happens.”

“No it does not!” Cordelia said indignantly, “Hands most certainly do not randomly… disappear! They stay tethered to bodies. And if they _don’t_ , you get blood and screaming and all manner of nastiness!”

Nico pulled out his, ‘I swear you are the most dense person I have ever met’ glare, which was typically only reserved for special people like Percy and Leo. “It happens to _me_ ,” he practically hissed. The flash of anger gave him renewed strength, so he used it to sheath his sword and swing his pack around—which had miraculously both survived and remained on his person—and sifted through it with his more solid hand.

As he did this he tuned out his surroundings for the most part, but was aware of Cordelia having a heated debate with someone. No; it sounded like practically everyone else there. But Cordelia and the dead guy were definitely the most vocal. Since she seemed to be addressing “Angel” and there was no way that this woman both knew his name was di Angelo _and_ thought it was a good idea to call him Angel, it meant ‘dark dead and mysterious’ was Angel. Curious. Not that that was anywhere close to his first priority.

Nico found what he was looking for almost instantly: a bottle of unicorn horn draught. Getting the flask _open_ , however… that was a challenge. At least pointedly ignoring the offers to help was old hand. Releasing a string of Greek curses, Nico gave the cap a final twist… and gave the Wesley guy a glare out of the corner of his eye (he was the closest). Nico put the flask to his lips, tilted his head back, immediately regretted his decision, lost his equilibrium, attempted to recover his balance despite the sudden pounding in his head and uncomfortable lightness settling somewhere in his belly, and somehow ended up seated on the floor by his pack. After taking a moment to breathe and reorient himself, he decided to go to ambrosia first. As Nico carefully wedged the flask between his legs and reached for the food of the gods, he listened to the conversation above him.

“—not going to go any closer. Who knows what he’d do!” Sounded like Wesley.

“Wesley, he’s a kid! He needs our help, and you are the one with the medical supplies—” A pissed Cordelia…

“Which won’t do any _good_ if he doesn’t want them, Cordelia!” Wesley, “Besides, we barely have any left after treating the hostages.” Quieter, he muttered, “Still don’t see why we had to rush them out without proper care.”

“He can’t even stand, and you know the police. If they’d gotten almost professional care, there would have been questions,” Angel pointed out, but he didn’t seem very invested in the conversation anymore. Nico found enough sense in his dazed state to be thankful that the people in chains that he’d heard were safe.

“Thanks, Angel. Didn’t know I’d graduated to ‘professional’ medical care,” Wesley sounded a little sarcastic.

“Aren’t _I_ the one who’s normally stitching you crazy people up? And when did we get off topic? The hostages are _gone_ ; this _kid_ is right here!” Cordelia promptly escalated in volume again.

“Um, guys?” Fred, perhaps?

“ _I’m_ not going to push him. He took out more vampires than all of us, save perhaps Angel, combined! I doubt a little light headedness is going to impair his ability to wield a sword.” Wesley again. At least he seemed to be impressed with Nico.

“Break it up, guys. This isn’t—” The Gunn guy seemed distressed, yet resigned.

“Honestly, Wesley! You should be ashamed of yourself! A Watcher—” More Angry Cordelia. Maybe that should be her title.

“I am not a Watcher and haven’t been one for a _very_ long time. If you can’t get over it and—”

“ _Everyone, SHUT UP!_ ” Fred’s sudden outburst stunned everyone into silence. “As Charles was trying to say, this is neither the time, nor place.”

Nico chanced a glance up. Wesley and Cordelia were nearly nose-to-nose. Gunn appeared to be trying to physically place himself between the two, and Fred was staring at Nico and… at the dead guy—Angel—who was closer now, watching Nico with great interest.

“What’s up with Angel?” Wesley asked, voice much quieter.

Cordelia grunted in agreement, “He seems creeped out by Young Dark and Mysterious here. Haven’t seen him like that since…. I’m not sure.”

Nico fixed Angel with a look of equal intensity. “You’re dead.” He had a feeling he’d said that before. Hmmm… maybe he was in real trouble.

A small smile crept across his face, “Yes. You mentioned that. You’re not human.” It was not a question, and was a blatant challenge to what Nico had told them earlier.

Hand finally landing on the ambrosia, Nico unwrapped it without looking and shoved a square in his mouth. He decided not to argue technicalities. And even if he did, he would probably still lose. Besides, his mouth was full of his mother’s delicious pasta and he didn’t want to rush that.

“Really? That’s it? Dead. Not human. Are we going in circles? And is this really the time for a snack?”

Already feeling a bit better, Nico smirked up at Cordelia, “It’s not just a snack.” He glanced at Wesley who was holding a bag and looking indecisive, “Think of it as medicine.” He carefully unscrewed his canteen and downed a big swallow of the light-inducing liquid.

“Medicine?” Fred asked curiously as she cautiously approached him. At least, that was who Nico chose to hear; Cordelia was still being incredibly sassy and dense at the same time (“Medicine? Seriously? How is a block of—of—um… is it sugar?”)

Nico met Fred’s gaze and shrugged. He couldn’t bring himself to be overtly rude to her; she reminded him of Hazel.

“Is it some kind of protein or energy mix?” she knelt about two feet from him.

“I guess you could say that,” Nico was vaguely aware of the curious gazes surrounding him as he downed another mouthful of unicorn draught.

“Can I see?” she asked, carefully reaching towards the ambrosia.

Nico felt his eyes widen, and quickly jerked the food of the gods out of arms’ reach. She shifted back in surprise, and he found himself giving her an apologetic half-smile, “Um… I wouldn’t recommend it for you, sorry.”

“How come?” it was Wesley this time.

Nico gave Angel a pointed look, “As you friend here keeps saying, I’m not human.” He shrugged, “I can eat things that would make you burn up.”

Angel huffed a laugh, “Is that supposed to encourage us, kid?”

Nico glared at the dead guy. _Again_. “Take it as you will.” After downing another swallow of the unicorn draught, Nico took a moment to be pleased with the uneasy looks they were giving each other. “Did I hear you guys say the people who were chained up are safe?”

“Uh, yeah. They’re being…” Gunn seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Herded?” Wesley suggested dryly.

Gunn nodded and continued, “…to safety by a, um, friend.”

Fred scowled at him, “Be nice to Lorne, Charles.” Gunn shrugged and looked apologetic.

“Ok. That’s good.” Nico looked down at his hand and frowned. Probably wasn’t a good sign that it was still gone. At least it didn’t feel like his stomach was trying to float way anymore. “Don’t suppose you could tell me where I am?” Nico looked back up.

Cordelia gave him an affronted look, “You don’t know?”

Ignoring her friend, Fred gave him a concerned look, “You’re in an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district.”

“Of…?”

Everyone was frowning now. “You’re in Los Angeles, kid,” the dead guy shifted closer.

“By the Lethe. I’m not even close.” Nico couldn’t even bring himself to be affronted at being called a kid. He heaved a breathy sigh, “Will was right. I wasn’t ready. Damn me to Tartarus and back. Again. He’s gonna kill me,” he muttered. Then promptly changed his mind, “No. _Hazel_ is going to.” _Or maybe they’ll join forces. That’s a distinct possibility._

“Um, where were you headed?”

Nico shrugged, not quite caring who was talking, “San Francisco.”

“How’d you get so lost?” Cordelia’s voice was surprisingly soft.

Nico smirked. “It’s more like I missed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, please.


	3. Answers?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few facts come to light, and Cordelia is very much in denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold! A year in the making.... THE NEXT CHAPTER!  
> I'm sorry, everyone who was waiting on this. I swear I will finish this soon. I just got... sidetracked. When I wasn't dealing with Life (and yes, it deserves a capital) I was being all excited about my Monsters By Any Other Name series and getting distracted by a ton of other ideas. BUT I think this fic only has one chapter left after this one before I wrap it up.  
> (EDIT: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA no. It grew. It grew a lot. Sorry...)  
> I hope you enjoy!

Cordelia felt found herself gaping at the strange kid in front of her. While he looked like an ordinary teenager, dressed in dark goth-like jeans and t-shirt, he was very much _not_ one. He didn’t make any sense. He had turned an obscene number of vampires to dust—wielding that mysterious black sword like it was a part of him—only to promptly… fade? And what the _hell_ was up with that? Bodies did not do that. Period. And then there was also the worrying fact that he kept… zoning out. He just stood there like some kind of ghost when Wesley was helping Gunn, and then it was like he was in some sort of slow-motion time warp digging around in that bag of his when Cordelia was ripping Angel a new one. He was so out of touch with the world, and whenever he did display some semblance of awareness it was to glare at someone (usually whoever was the closest).

Alright, maybe she was being a little unfair. Mr Mini-Dark-and-Mysterious did seem a little better now that he’d eaten that weird sugar cube thing. His hand was still gone though. _And_ he had graduated to muttering strange things under his breath. A large portion of which was definitely not English.

After the boy’s dramatic declaration of not being lost, but having missed, Cordelia was temporarily dumbstruck. This gave Fred the opportunity to lean forward, from where she still knelt next to the boy and his pack, and ask gently, “What do you mean you missed?”

“I’m not human,” he shrugged as though that was a suitable explanation, even though they’d already established that little tidbit. (That was another big thing about this strange boy that Cordelia was decidedly _not_ ok with, but she was ignoring that for now. Along with the fact that he somehow knew Mr Dark-and-Mysterious Sr was dead.)

Fred seemed as taken aback as Cordelia because she simply looked over her shoulder at Angel with a lost expression on her face.

Angel frowned and took a small step closer to the boy, “So you have… magic, then?”

The boy snorted, “That’s one way to put it.”

“What’s the other way?” Gunn asked curiously from somewhere behind Cordelia.

The boy hesitated and looked down at his hands—rather, his hand holding his flask and the arm that would normally be attached to his other hand. After a moment he shrugged, as though going ‘ _what the hell’_. He looked up at the motley group that surrounded him and gave them a strange smile that was a cross between a nervous flash of teeth and a mischievous smirk, “I’m the son of Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and I’ve inherited a fair number of his powers.” Something primal and terrifying lit up in the boy’s eyes, and for a moment Cordelia forgot that he was fading from existence. “They call me the King of Ghosts.”

“That’s a, uh,” Wesley’s voice took a step up in pitch, “interesting title.”

The kid shrugged and took another swig from his flask. He seemed absolutely unconcerned.

“How’d you get it?” Fred asked curiously.

He gave her a very unimpressed look, “How do you think?”

“But,” Cordelia ventured, “Wouldn’t, um, _Hades_ be the King of Ghosts?”

“No,” he snorted, “My dad is the King of the _Underworld_.”

For a moment, they all stared in silence as the strange boy drank from his flask. Cordelia, for one, was absolutely befuddled and was still trying to process everything she’d heard so far. Just… _what_? He was the son of a _god_? How was that _possible_? A _god_??

The only person who didn’t seem to be affected was Angel. Because, you know, it was Angel. Said vampire was the one to break the silence, “Alright, kid. I’m still not sure how or why you’re here but you clearly need help and we can’t stay here. I’m Angel,” the vampire started gesturing to each occupant of the warehouse, “This is my team; Gunn, Wes—“

“Wesley, Cordelia, and Fred,” the boy finished a little impatiently, gesturing just like Angel had. “I’m perfectly capable of listening, even when I’m fading from existence,” he snarked, “But since you’re finally sharing, maybe you can tell me what in the name of Hades _those_ ,” he gestured to the piles of dust, “things are. Because, whatever they were, they were like you, _Angel_. Dead, but… not like one of my zombies. And _they_ … they felt empty. You feel more complete, like an actual ghost.”

Cordelia was speechless. She noticed Fred’s jaw was hanging a little loose and Wesley looked like someone had slapped him. Gunn looked suspicious. Angel himself, however, looked taken aback… and rather intrigued as well. “You’ve never seen a vampire before?”

“ _Vampires_?” he nearly hissed, “ _Seriously_? I was sure I was mistaken…”

“Nope,” Cordelia jumped in, popping the ‘p’, “They were your average, soulless, bloodsucking undead. Angel here, though, he’s fully ensouled. Still quite dead, but at least he has a conscience.”

“I’ve only ever seen _empousai_ before…” the boy murmured, “I’m going to have to swear on the Styx to get everyone to believe me.”

“What are _empousai_?” Fred forgot her shock in favor of curiousity.

The boy shrugged, “They’re daughters of Hecate, and are hybrids of a sort. Human, donkey, and mechanics. They drink the blood of men they seduce. ”

“ _Donkey_?” Wesley asked incredulously.

Gunn, however, shook his head at his friend, “No… that I can get… but mechanics? What does that even mean?”

“They only have one leg, a donkey’s leg, so they’re given a celestial bronze prosthetic. I’ve heard that they’re melded together with black magic.”

“Celestial bronze,” Wesley murmured quietly, but Cordelia was fairly certain that only she had heard it.

Gunn frowned deeply, “And you mistook them for vampires?” Unlike Wesley’s musing, his incredulous question was heard by _everyone_.

The son of Hades (and Cordelia was still very much _not_ ok with that) gave the experienced  demon hunter a murderous look, “They basically _are_ vampires—they drink _blood_! I’m sorry that I’ve never seen _your_ type of vampire before.”

Gunn scowled back at the feisty not-quite-human, and opened his mouth to say something that would no doubt inflame the situation. The boy obviously knew this too, because his expression was darkening rapidly and he hadn’t even heard what Gunn was about to say.

Cordelia felt obligated to jump in before anyone exchanged blows, “Whoa there, cowboys. Take it easy. We already know the world is a big scary place; so _what_ if it’s a little scarier?” Once both boys redirected their glares to her she addressed the kid, “You know ours’, bucko, so what’s your name?”

His glare subsided to a heavy smolder, and he looked down at his hands. Well, hand-with-flask and arm-without-hand. (Another thing Cordelia was still very much _not_ ok with.) “Nico,” he muttered reluctantly.

“Alright, Nico,” Cordelia continued, “Like Angel said, we can’t stay here. Why don’t we relocate to our command center, and then you can tell us how exactly we can help you.”

Around her, Cordelia’s teammates murmured agreement and began to efficiently gather weapons and medical supplies and pack them away. The boy— _Nico_ —watched for a moment before giving a disgusted huff and shoving his own supplies back into his pack (one-handed).

“You could _help_ by getting me to San Francisco,” he muttered, swinging his pack over his shoulders and sliding his sword into its sheaf, still seated. He took a deep breath and braced his working hand against the floor. Cordelia had a flash of anxiety a moment before the son of Hades heaved himself to his feet. For a precarious moment, he swayed forward, and everyone started towards him but Fred, who was still the closest, reached out hurriedly to steady him. He, in return, glared at her and continued his griping, “I would’ve thought that’d be obvious since I said I was headed there.”

It took Cordelia a long moment to remember what he had been talking about. As such, Angel beat her to the punch.

“You’re not going anywhere until you can walk straight,” Dark-and-Mysterious (original trademarked edition) scolded the teenager severely.

“And your hand stops pulling a Houdini on us,” Cordelia added, mimicking Angel’s ‘I-am-not-kidding’ face perfectly.

Nico huffed at them, “You know, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” They all gave him incredulous looks, so he scowled and murmured, probably to himself, “It’s not like I saved the world, or survived Tartarus, or visit the Underworld for kicks or anything. _No_ … I’m obviously completely helpless. That horde of vampires nearly _massacred_ me.”

“Try not to drown us in your sarcasm,” Wesley told Nico wisely as he passed him, still supported by Fred. “You wouldn’t want to kill the kind souls that are trying to help you.”

Hanging back as everyone filed out of the dank warehouse towards the cars, Cordelia rolled her eyes. This was going to be a very _very_ long day. And that wasn’t even _counting_ the nest of vampires they’d just killed!


	4. Rainbows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico calls for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the _end_ end, but I've been struggling with this chapter for MONTHS. Every time I try to write it just keeps getting longer and longer and longer.  
>  Soooo... this story is done for now.  
> SORRY! DON'T SHOOT!  
> I may very well write more in the future, but I just can't keep trying to force it.  
> So, yeah.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Cordelia was at a loss. They had hit the warehouse on a run-of-the-mill vampire hunt and come out with completely unexpected baggage. Nico was so… strange. He was quiet and brooding, kept using unusual phrases, was super hostile, and had enough sarcasm to drown a city. Cordelia didn’t know what to think about him.

He was the epitome of ‘goth’, the ‘King of Ghosts’, and the son of the _ruler of the Underworld_. He was _badass_ and freaking _deadly_ with that sword of his, but he was also so… young. And vulnerable.

After only a few hours with the kid, Cordelia knew better than to even _think_ of telling Nico, but she just wanted to wrap him in a warm blanket and pop him in front of the TV with a bowl of soup until he stopped _frigging fading into nothing_.

Just… _seriously_? He was disappearing—like, poof, gone… not invisibility or a gaping wound… just _gone_. And he was so… unconcerned. He just kept glaring at the members of Angel Investigations whenever they tried to help, and drank out of that precious little flask.

What was even _in_ that thing?

He hadn’t put it down once. Not in the car on the way into town, not in the hotel as he surveyed his surroundings critically, and _certainly_ not during the near-constant arguments the worried adults kept provoking with him.

Wesley was the one currently attempting to talk some sense into the boy, but he didn’t appear to be listening to the worried tirade. Nico was simply settled into his little spot on the circular couch in the entryway, digging around in his pack.

“—perhaps a spell?” Wesley was suggesting, “We have plenty of books; we could look for something to bring your hand b—”

Nico suddenly straightened with a satisfied exclamation, a golden coin held aloft in victory in his only solid hand. Wesley cut himself off mid-sentence and stared at the demigod in confusion. Nico turned to the room at large, the first real smile Cordelia had ever seen on him plastered across his face, “Do you have any rainbows?”

A long moment of silence followed. Wesley and Lorne (who had arrived a few minutes ago and failed to provoke any reaction at all from Nico) both looked utterly gob-smacked, while Fred looked up from the book of Greek Myths she had been firmly absorbed in, face full of abject confusion, and Angel turned slowly towards the boy with a deep frown on his face. From the office, there was a faint crash and a colorful curse followed by Gunn poking his head out to stare at the demigod, “What did you say?” Cordelia was in full agreement with the sentiment. Rainbows? _What_?

Nico gave them a thoroughly annoyed look. “ _Rainbows_ ,” he repeated in mild exasperation, “You know, a split spectrum of light made by prisms, or fountains, or mist…”

Cordelia was still completely baffled, and by the looks of it, so where the others.

“Why do you what to make a rainbow?” Fred asked curiously.

“I need to let people know I’m not dead,” the son of Hades huffed impatiently.

“With a _rainbow_?” Wesley voiced Cordelia’s own confusion.

Surprisingly, Fred cut Nico off before he could do more than glare and open his mouth, “Iris, right? The Goddess of Rainbows,” she continued for the benefit of her teammates, “She’s a Messenger of the Gods.”

Nico gave the physicist a brilliant smile, evidently quite pleased that they weren’t all idiots.

Cordelia was still confused though, and frowned at the teenager, “And you can’t use a _phone_ …. why?”

Nico’s trademark scowled reappeared and was directed at her. “Demigods don’t use phones,” he explained with an air of resignation, “they’re like homing beacons for everything that wants to eat us.”

Cordelia blinked. _Right_. Greek monsters think demigods are a delicacy. She must have selectively forgotten that piece of Nico’s explanation from the car ride over.

“So?” he prompted impatiently, “Rainbow?”

Angel looked at Gunn, who was the closest to the office still, “Do we still have that scrying crystal?”

Gunn nodded, apparently speechless, and disappeared into the office. A moment later he emerged and delivered the small crystal to the waiting demigod. Nico, in turn, evaluated it critically before nodding in satisfaction and pulling a flashlight out of his bag. Cordelia was starting to wonder if it had originally belonged to Mary Poppins.

Angel Investigations watched in interest as the demigod juggled the prism and light one-handed, until he managed to balance the prism and flashlight on the seat so a clear rainbow was cast across the floor. Once satisfied neither component would roll way, Nico moved so he was standing above the rainbow and pulled out the coin he had been brandishing earlier. He flipped in in his hand once, murmured, “O, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering,” and dropped it.

Cordelia watched in shock as the coin disappeared into the rainbow like it was a puddle.

“Show me Will Solace in Camp Half-Blood,” Nico declared.

Obediently, the rainbow rippled and shifted, forming an image. It was a blond boy sitting at a desk, chewing on a pencil. He looked up in surprise before his expression darkened dramatically. “Nico di Angelo, you insufferable idiot!” he hissed up at the other demigod, “I swear by your _father_ that I will track you down, drag you back to the infirmary, and chain you to a bed surrounded by sun lamps so you can’t slip away!”

“Hey, Will,” Nico greeted softly. He looked positively cowed, which was rather concerning; Cordelia had only known the kid for a few hours but even _she_ knew that was unusual.

The boy’s angry expression faltered and faded, “Where are you? Everyone’s been so _worried_ about you…”

“I just needed to get out,” the son of Hades murmured.

“So you _shadow traveled_?! Nico—”

“I know, I know,” he cut Will off and held up his handless arm, “And you were right. I wasn’t ready.”

A panicked note crept into his voice, “Do you have nectar? Unicorn draught?”

Cordelia was completely lost. She understood the words, but it might as well have been Ancient Greek—she didn’t comprehend their significance at _all_. Nectar was fruit juice, right? And showdown traveling must be some demigod thing, and unicorns surely—wait. _Unicorns_?

Ignorant, or perhaps just uncaring, of the confusion on the adults’ faces, Nico gave the image on the floor an annoyed look that clearly said ‘I am not that stupid’. “I ate some ambrosia and I‘ve drunk two flasks of draught. I haven’t faded any more, but it hasn’t gotten better either.”

The boy in the image did not look reassured, “Nico, you need to get back here _now._ Where _are_ you?

“California,” the son of Hades sighed reluctantly, “Los Angeles, apparently.”

“You were trying to visit Hazel, weren’t you?” he rubbed his forehead.

“Yeah, but…” Nico sighed again, “It went a little wrong and I ended up in a warehouse full of vampires.”

“ _Empousai_?” Will asked in mild surprise, “What were they doing—”

“No. _Vampires_. I swear on the Styx— they were actual vampires.”

“Gods, Nico,” he shook his head, “The things you get into…”

“There were vampire hunters too,” Nico continued, looking up to glare at the group who were still watching with unabashed interest. “They’re refusing to help me get to San Francisco.”

“What?” Will looked a little pissed, “Why?”

Wesley, who was closest, took a step forward and leaned over the image on the floor, “Because he’s _disappearing_. That’s why.”

“No, no… Listen,” the boy shook his head rapidly, “He needs _help_. Help you _can’t_ give. Nico’s condition is unique to him and only him. He needs a rigorous regimen of nectar, ambrosia, unicorn draught, rest, bright light, and soil compresses.” He frowned sternly at the man who was probably twice his age, “Which, not only do I doubt you have, I do not trust you to administer correctly.”

“Will is my doctor,” Nico explained before looking down at Will, “Soil compresses? _Really_? Who told you about that? Reyna or Coach Hedge?”

The boy wrinkled his nose, “It saved your life, Nico. You nearly faded _completely_ after that show of magic… Hedge was lucky to find something that worked.”

“I’m not letting you or _anyone_ smear mud all over me.”

“Oh, alright…” Will smirked, “I’ll tell Reyna you said that.”

Nico’s eyes widened comically for a brief moment, before he got control of himself and gave an unimpressed huff, “Will…”

“Wait,” Angel spoke up, “Your doctor is a _kid_?”

In the rainbow puddle, the blonde’s eyes flashed dangerously, “Who said that?”

Angel moved hesitantly forward to stand beside Wesley and stare down into the puddle. He opened his mouth, probably to introduce himself, but Nico beat him to it.

“This is Angel,” the demigod told his friend, a hint of annoyance in his tone, “He’s an ensouled vampire who hunts vampires.”

Will’s face scrunched up in confusion for a split second, but he quickly shrugged it off and glared at Angel, “Well, regardless of who or what you are, I’ll have you know that I am a fully qualified healer and the head of the Apollo cabin.” It looked like he was going to continue, but once again Nico jumped in.

“Basically what that means is Will is in charge of the medical care of an entire camp full of demigods—demigods who train with pointy weapons, participate in weekly mock-battles amongst themselves, and must learn to defend themselves against the monsters waiting beyond the camp.” He shrugged, “Injuries are common, especially with the lava climbing wall.”

“The _what_?” Wesley hissed. Cordelia, after she had finished processing that, totally agreed.

“You forgot to mention Quests,” Will pointed out, “Or the Wars.”

“ _Wars_?” Cordelia practically yelped, “What?!”

“Oh yeah,” Nico nodded seriously. Cordelia got the distinct impression that he was making fun of her somehow. “We just finished one a few months back. The Titan War. Though really that’s an understatement as Gaea—Mother Earth herself—was waking up and trying to kill everyone.”

“Before that, we had the Battle of Manhattan,” Will supplied helpfully, looking almost cheery, “With Kronos trying to take Olympus.”

Nico gave Cordelia (who was pretty sure she had her mouth hanging open) a hard look, “We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves.” He shifted his glare to Angel, “And Will is my _doctor_.”

“And as Nico’s doctor,” Will continued cheerily, “I must _insist_ you take him to Camp Jupiter in San Francisco.”

There was a beat of silence and the adults stared at the kids and each other. Angel raised his eyebrows at Cordelia, so she shrugged. She wasn’t sure what to think about it all, but Will seemed genuine and everything he said lined up with the little Nico had explained.

“Hey, Will!” a voice called from out of view in the rainbow puddle. A moment later a second voice asked, sounding much closer, “Who you talking to?”

Nico let out a groan and covered his face with his corporeal hand. Will was giving Nico a mischievous smile that looked almost dangerous. A second later, a boy popped into view at Will’s shoulder, his very green eyes opened comically wide.

“Why’s the perspective all weird?” he asked cocking his head to the side. He had black hair and was wearing the same orange shirt as Will.

“Move over, Percy,” grumbled the first voice, preceding the appearance of another boy—this one was blonde and had glasses. He peered up at them out of the rainbow for a moment before gasping, “Nico?”

Percy glanced at the other boy before looking back at the image, seemingly recognizing the dark boy covering his face for the first time, “Neeks! Dude, what happened to your hand?”

Nico merely let out a muffled groan.

Will turned to the others, an angry gleam reminiscent of his initial reaction in his eyes, “Nico tried to _shadow_ _travel_ to New Rome, missed, landed in a warehouse full of vampires, and started to _disappear_.”

“Nico!” the boy with the glasses admonished like a very angry and concerned parent.

“Jason,” Nico muttered miserably, removing his hand from his face so he could look down, “Can we _please_ not do this right now?”

Percy was frowning, “Vampires? You mean _empousai_?”

“No, I mean _vampires_ ,” Nico huffed in annoyance as he gestured at Angel, who was alternating between frowning at the son of Hades and scrutinizing the other three kids in the image, “like _him_ only bad.”

Percy peered up at Angel in interest, “You’re a vampire? Do you drink blood?”

Jason jabbed Percy in the side, prompting a sheepish look, but Angel shifted uncomfortably and nodded anyway. Percy’s eyes went wide, causing Nico to let out a despairing moan and bury his head in his hand again, and Will to start cackling.

“Percy! _Will_!” Jason turned his admonishing parent look on the boys at his side, “ _Focus_.”

Will stopped laughing and cleared his throat awkwardly, “Right, sorry.” He turned back to the group standing above the image, “So, will you just take him to San Francisco already?”

Observing the four strange boys, who she assumed were all demigods, interact, Cordelia found it very hard to argue with the reasoning they had been presented. They may just be kids (who definitely acted like kids) but they clearly knew what was happening to Nico and had stopped it before. Since they had _no idea_ the logical thing would be to hand him back to the people who could help. Even if they were teenagers. Which, Cordelia reflected, she couldn’t really protest against, considering the things she had gotten up to in high school.

The others seemed to be reaching similar conclusion (though Lorne seemed to be in a state of confused shock still). Out of all of them, Gunn seemed the most concerned and was scowling at the image on the floor with his arms crossed, while Fred seemed the least phased, having wandered off to collect one of the mythology books from where she had been set up researching the stuff Nico had shared. Angel peered across at Wesley, and an understanding passed between them.

“If you’re certain he’ll be alright…” Wesley ventured hesitantly, looking back down at the three demigods on the floor.

Nico glared across the image at the researcher. “You do realize I’m right here,” he asked in a flat way that was more of a statement than anything else.

“Definitely,” Jason answered Wesley’s question, seemingly to everyone’s surprise. “Nico’s sister is there; there’s no way she’ll allow him to be anything but alright.”

Percy nodded in emphatic agreement, but Will narrowed his eyes at Nico, “You have told Hazel, right?”

“Uh,” Nico shifted uncomfortably, “No? I only had one _drachma_ and I needed someone to convince these people,” he gestured towards the group still watching him with interest a few feet away, “to take me to Camp Jupiter.”

Will’s expression softened, but Percy looked at Nico like he was crazy, “You chose Will over _Hazel_ to convince them?” He glanced at Will, “No offense, dude.”

Will simply rolled his eyes, and Nico snorted.

“I could go get Piper,” Jason offered, seemingly out of the blue.

Nico quickly waved him off, “That’s not necessary. I think they’ll shut up about spells and rituals and actually help now.”

Angel and Wesley, who were the only two visible to the kids still, nodded hesitantly in agreement.

“Good,” Will said, “I’ll let Hazel and Reyna know so if you don’t show up in a few hours they can send the Legion out to find you.”

Nico didn’t look thrilled at the prospect.

Percy gave him an unsympathetic smile, “Man… they’re going to whoop your ass to Tartarus and back.”

“Thanks, Percy,” the son of Hades grumbled, “I totally needed a reminder.”

Jason scowled, “ _I’m_ going to whoop your ass too, when you get back here. We’ve all been worried sick.”

The other boys blinked at him. Will shook his head, “Jason, never say ‘whoop your ass’ again. Percy can pull it off—”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Nico filled in.

Percy straightened up with an indignant look on his face, “Hey!”

“But you _can’t_ ,” Will finished.

Jason blinked at him in mild confusion. “Because… I’m not an idiot?” he ventured hesitantly.

Percy let out an affronted squawk, “Grace! How could you?”

Jason frowned at his steaming friend, “Huh?”

“You, me, arena, now,” he declared, grabbing the still confused boy and dragging him out of view.

“Jackson! What the _hell_?”

“I’m going to _whoop your ass_ , Sparky!”

Cordelia found herself watching in fascination, amusement, and a great deal of confusion as Will started cackling helplessly again, clearly watching his friends disappear. Nico was turning an impressive shade of pink, too. It was rather shocking, and encouraging, seeing the strange teen display so much emotion.

Said demigod was backing up towards the crystal and light, embarrassment clear on his face. “Talk to you later, bye!” he yelled and swooped up the flashlight, effectively ending the connection.”

“Kid,” Lorne said into the stunned silence, “You have some strange friends.”

Nico sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah, I guess I do.” He looked down at his missing hand, a pleased smile spreading across his face, as though the very thought was foreign to him. “I guess I do.”

“And _I_ guess we’ve got a road trip to get started on,” Cordelia announced. “Shall we?”

As the group gathered up some things—weapons for Angel and Gunn, the medical bag for Wesley, a stack of books for Fred, and the flask and bag for Nico—and drifted back outside to the cars, Cordelia took the chance to center herself and start processing the additionally information she had received. It was all rather daunting still, even after meeting more kids like Nico. Or was that _especially_?

Cordelia had been right though. This was one _hell_ of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Not very satisfying. I apologize with utter sincerity. I hope to get back to this eventually, but I'm so busy right now that I don't see it happening for months and months, so I'm calling quits.  
> But please subscribe! I'll get back to it eventually!  
> As a consolation prize I will share the head-cannon that both helped me get through this chapter and shot me in the foot: Cordelia is a daughter of Apollo. THIS beautiful and horrible thought kept stretching the writing process out and making my head hurt. But, I hope, when I return to this and Angel Investigations visits New Rome, Cordy will learn the shocking truth.  
> So please please please stay tuned?


End file.
